Chapter 3
As I was leaving, Evelyn gave me a look of encouragement.
Oh,didn't she know I can't be left alone with Brice? That would kill me. Back at the dorm, under the watchful eyes of Riya and the others, I quickly packed my clothes and toiletries for the business trip.
"All set?" Riya glanced at my suitcase.
"Yeah, I think that's everything," I said, still dazed.
Number Two was munching on chips with a wicked grin. "Amelia, that was fast! Off to a romantic getaway with Brice already?"
"Shut up!" I groaned. "I'm already dying inside. This is not funny!"
Tess mysteriously shoved something into my suitcase and said I'd definitely need it. I was running out of time and didn't even check what it was.
By the time we arrived in Oshurg City, it was already past midnight. The local coordinator picked us up at the airport and dropped us off at the hotel. I barely made it to bed before passing out.
The next two days were a blur of chaos—I could barely find time to eat, let alone breathe. Brice was somehow busier than I was, but never looked tired.
Seriously, did he secretly pop some kind of superhuman vitamin?
I spent the whole trip spinning like a top around him, and I swore right then and there that I'd never go on another business trip with him again.
On the fifth day, once we finally wrapped things up, the client invited us to a celebratory dinner.
I thought for sure Brice would decline. He always seemed so aloof.
To my surprise, he accepted graciously, completely shattering the cold and distant image I had of him.
He handled the dinner like a pro—confident, composed, practically the center of attention.
Throughout the night, Peyton Irwin, the pudgy client rep, kept trying to get me to drink. I knew my own pathetic tolerance, so I used the old "it's that time of the month" excuse.
"No worries, just one glass," Peyton smirked. "If it hurts, I'll buy you painkillers."
He reached out, trying to grab my hand with a greasy smile.
It was disgusting and slimy. I instinctively moved closer to Brice.
Thank god, Brice caught on. He pulled me into his arms and clinked glasses with Peyton.
"Peyton, my lovely apprentice's a bit timid," he said lightly. "Don't scare her off."
Peyton gave us a suggestive look.
"Prof. Warren, you can't joke like that. I wasn't scaring her, was I?"
He clearly wasn't backing off.
Brice just smiled politely. "She cries easily, and if she does, I'm the one who'll have to deal with it."
The implication was obvious. Brice was subtly warning him off by pretending we had something more going on.
I caught the hint,and my face burned from my neck to my ears.
Brice looked at me and chuckled. "Look at that blush—so red already."
Then, with a teasing smile, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and gave me this... look.
Peyton, clearly getting the message, downed another glass with Brice and finally backed off.
Just the two of us were left—awkward silence lingering between us.
Sensing my discomfort, Brice offered an explanation. "Sorry about that, I just didn't want him pestering you. It was the quickest solution."
"I know," I muttered.
But strangely, his explanation didn't make me feel better. It kind of annoyed me.
I didn't even know why I was upset.
Maybe I was just exhausted.
Maybe I really didn't like him.
No—if I was being honest, I'd always liked him.
I liked him from the moment I first met him.
What Brice didn't know was that he was the reason I applied for grad school.
I just wanted a legitimate excuse to stay close to him.
Becoming his student meant we could be together more, but once I was, I got scared.
Teacher-student relationships were never easy to explain.
He was so bright and brilliant. If people talked behind our backs because of me, I'd be devastated.
So I buried my feelings, deep in my heart.
Now, watching him standing among the crowd, effortlessly charming everyone around him, I couldn't help but feel he was born to be the center of any room.
The party ended, and Brice was clearly tipsy.
He slumped against the sofa with glazed eyes, looking dangerously seductive.
Peyton gave me a meaningful look before leaving. "Make sure you get him back to his room safely."
I supported Brice, struggling with his nearly 6'3 frame.
Just as we reached the door, I collapsed under his weight.
He tumbled down with me, his perfect face just inches from mine.
I could hear my heartbeat, loud and chaotic.
God, I wanted to kiss him.
That thought startled me so much I scrambled upright, flustered, and dragged him back onto his feet.
It took everything I had to get him settled—his fair skin already flushed from the alcohol.
The warm yellow light softened his features, making him look gentler.
He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a low groan as the heat got to him. His tie was loosened, a few shirt buttons popped open.
I pulled a blanket over him. But he kicked it off.
And with that small motion, his clothes slipped even looser.